


Brother of Mine

by jenovasilver



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Brother knows best, Brothers, Childhood, Concern, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Sibling Love, The Reichenbach Fall, Without saying a word
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-06
Updated: 2012-03-06
Packaged: 2017-11-01 14:07:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/357693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jenovasilver/pseuds/jenovasilver
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes, family is all you REALLY have....</p>
            </blockquote>





	Brother of Mine

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PrettySami](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrettySami/gifts).



*********************

_"I knew you would come here.."  
  
"I honestly had nowhere to go."_ _  
  
"Me, Sherlock, you'll always have me..."_   
  
The Holmes brothers sat on a worn swingset at a park that they frequented when they were younger…by all accounts, the park wasn’t much, a slide, jungle gym, rocking ducks and horses but it had a pirate ship.   
  
They came across this particular park during a trip into the city, their father had to meet someone nearby and wanted a place his sons could play without getting hurt or lost. From that day on, younger Sherlock pestered Mycroft to no ENDS to take him here. He loved the pirate ship more the anything in the park...and whether he wanted to admit it now, Mycroft knew he STILL did.  
  
Nowadays the park had seen better times, chipped paint and graffiti covered the structures in elaborate displays, some equipment didn’t work….even the swingset they were on had one broken swing in between them, _fitting_. Seeing the decay of their childhood memories meant nothing to Mycroft but to Sherlock…these moments were rare, moments of regrets, moments of profound fear and anguish. What happened at St Bart’s, the Fall…the smell of blood, broken bones, NONE of that mattered to him.  
  
It was John’s face, his voice cracking in despair, begging him not to jump…the last look before passing out completely was the glimpse of John’s broken face. If he could shake that off he would be able to prepare and plan effectively..but he couldn’t. Days passed since that happened, he learn that John’s been to therapy…that he’s visited his false grave nearly daily, then as the months passed…he slowly stopped coming. John went on dates. Ms Hudson started smiling again, Lestrade too. Soon…it was early winter again…the one year anniversary of his ‘death’.  
  
Everyone was moving on, just as planned…Sherlock knew that grief, no, matter how painful it was….dulled in time. What he _didn’t_ count on was how much it would hurt HIM or…how lonely he now was.  
  
It took months to finally track Sherlock down…and when Mycroft found him, he WASN’T going to let him go.  
  
“I bet you’re enjoying this aren’t _you_?” Sherlock sneered on the swing; he couldn’t make it move because of his long legs, “I’m NOT begging.”  
  
“Of course you’re not…would you like me to read what you sent me?” Mycroft took out his phone and found the message thread, “It says ‘The Pirate Ship, come.’ SH.”  
  
“Doesn’t make me feel any less…”  
  
“Less what ?”  
  
“ _Desperate_.”  
  
“Well of course, your situation isn’t exactly simplistic…quite dramatic, but that’s expected.”  
  
“No different.”  
  
“Never said I wasn’t.” Mycroft looked at Sherlock softly, the air was getting crisper..biting their exposed faces with the coming winter and he noticed that Sherlock was without his scarf. “What do you need of me?”   
  
“I…don’t know.”  
  
“You always know…is Sherlock lonely?” Sherlock snapped his glare at his brother so hard, it almost looked like his head would spin off. “Death, I figured for you would be quite an experiment for you. And really Sherlock, you can’t control ALL experiments. Or their affect on people.”  
  
“I suppose I miss my chemistry set.”  
  
“I have it.”  
  
“You _have_ it.”  
  
“And your leftover organs are also in…storage.”  
  
“Why did you remove them?!”  
  
“And what would YOU do with them…it’s not like you have ACCESS to them?”  
  
“I’m sure John would have never touched them.”  
  
“He _didn’t_ …but he also didn’t know what to do with them _either_.”

Sherlock rose from the swing, he noticed a small snowflake making its slow descent to earth…how hard it was to be the first…but snowflakes weren’t sentient creatures. They had no real concept of discovering new things; they were pieces of cloud droplets that froze in the atmosphere upon descent…nothing particularly extraordinary. Mycroft kept a silent watch on him, he noticed that Sherlock lost about 4 pounds, he's not eating.

“My, that moment I planned my death with Molly…I didn’t think much of it. I knew Moriarty was playing his final card, I prepared to end it there…and yet.”  
  
“Yes?”  
  
“Everything worked perfectly. I’m _so bored_ with being dead.”  
  
“You still haven’t told me what you want of me.” Sherlock spun back around to look at Mycroft, who held no visible changes in his expression. “You’re not eating, you’ve lost weight..”  
  
“I don’t really have the time.”  
  
“You don’t MAKE the time, look, you won’t say it…so I won’t _let_ you. You’re coming home with me.” Mycroft stood up and walked over to his brother, “I very well left you to your own devices. For years now and now, at this time, you have _no_ other options left, _no one_ to turn to and NO one who can understand you.”  
  
“You assume I haven’t been in that spot before Mycroft. I coped fine.” Sherlock threw back, the snowflakes became more plentiful and when it snowed, the area would become eerily still almost dreamlike....that’s how it was now. Mycroft noticed the snow clinging to Sherlock’s hair, he hasn’t been sleeping enough.  
  
“Yes, but before no one knew who you were, no one who _mattered_. Now..”  
  
“Everything is different.”  
  
“Everything WAS always different with us Sherlock.” Mycroft reached into his coat and pulled out a dark blue scarf, he placed it over Sherlock’s head, “When you were younger, you never dressed appropriately for the weather and always became ill..Mummy would blame me for not keeping a better eye on you.” He wrapped it carefully around his brother slender neck and into his coat, there was some slight bruising around his neck and collarbone…probably injuries he sustained in some scuffle with vagrants. The clothes he wore underneath were worn and dirty. “And so I’ve made it my mission to keep my eyes on you at all the times..still, I was not successful in keeping you from harm.”  
  
“I make my OWN decisions My, my OWN life… _remember_?” Sherlock wanted to pull away, to just thank his brother for the scarf since he lost his recently, just like he lost a lot of things during this experiment.  
  
“But you’re _dead_ now Sherlock..what life do you HAVE at the moment?” Mycroft walked from his brother to his luxury car just pulling up, “I’ve made arrangements for you, a private account and a small flat where your…chemistry set and experiments are readily accessible.”  
  
“What do you _want_ from this?”  
  
“The same thing you wanted since we started talking..”  
  
“And what is that Mycroft?”  
  
“ _Nothing_ …I want _nothing_ from you.” Sherlock looked on as Mycroft slid in his car, he left the door opened and waited for a moment and almost closed the door when Sherlock slipped inside to sit beside Mycroft. “We have a lovely tea waiting.”  
  
“Is that why you rushed off? Tea?”  
  
“It’s very good tea.” Sherlock relaxed himself against the slick shiny warm leather, it smelled reassuring and the classical music soothed him as well. Mycroft noticed a small hole on the right hand corner of Sherlock’s coat…he had a new one waiting for him in the flat and just watched as his younger brother looked like he was about to sleep. Mycroft adjusted the temperature in the backseat to something more comfortable for him and waited for the inevitable.  
  
“Bah, I don’t need it…I’m fine.”   
  
“Of course, dear brother of mine.” Mycroft said in a whisper, he watched Sherlock huddle up and doze off. “Of course.”  
  
  
 **END**


End file.
